The Twilight of the Admins
by Jay Richard
After hanging from a spear thrown into the devianTree for nine nights, I have obtained the knowledge of how the dAsphere shall come to pass. Gather around me as I nurse my wound and drink copious amounts of ale and I will tell you of what I have seen....
The Eternal Winter of the Forums
Two great warriors shall by chance meet on the plain of battle known as the Thumbshare Forum. They are champions of the same vein, the hit-and-fade barbarians called Smart Alecs, but they are solitary and fight for no one but themselves. A thumbnail of a Philosopher's illustration will bring the first salvo. One Smart Alec enjoys the piece in a cynical manner; the other Smart Alec seeks its prompt but humorous annihilation with a one-line Zinger of Doom, a +3 attack using 2d12.
A witticism will be fired, followed by a mighty retaliation. Lo, it will escalate and a maelstrom of Smart Alecs will blossom, growing in number b
Making TimeMaking Time12 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Vacation with the Buxleys was unbearable. They were all about numbers. 197 miles to Scottsbluff. 24 minutes to the next Flying J. Barometric pressure is 29.1 and dropping. And they didn't just talk numbers; they brawled numbers. If any of the three Buxley machines - man, woman, or prepubescent - committed an error minute as a hundredth of a percent, it was the job of the other two to gang up on the mistaken party and chastise until all of their boxy foreheads were dewy with computational perspiration. This is why I hadn't said anything in 150 miles. 156, to be exact.
What started as a well-meant ploy by my mother to get me out of town for a week had now escalated into a hostage situation. I was perched in the backseat of a plasticky SUV with a strange family, afflicted with reading-in-the-car queasiness and a terminal no-rest-stop-for-300-miles bladder infection. My trip was spent staring absently out the window, pointedly avoiding any sort of dialogue with the Buxleys' ghastly, rabbit
The Littlest PresidentThe Littlest President11 years ago in Socio-political More Like This
The Littlest President
At the age of eleven I was elected the 50th president of the United States of America. My analysts put my win down to youth (I was the youngest ever to run) and to the unfortunate late-October acne breakout of my incumbent rival, an eighth grader from Massachusetts. I have a stronger faith in the New Rules than do my analysts, who are always looking at polls and running them through sacred formula. I ascribe my presidency to the good sense of America, my hard work at Security School, and the stunning leadership of my handlers.
Once my presidency was officially announced, my face was given another coat of foundation and I was ushered up to a podium in front of a large crowd of my supporters. There was a crashing sea of applause. Most of my supporters were dumpy women in their thirties – just barely old enough to remember a time before we had the New Rules – these were my core demographic, although my handlers dutifully i